


Promise from Milleniums Past

by Writing_Blues



Series: Our Story [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Elezen Warrior of Light - Freeform, OC, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spoilers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22435525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Blues/pseuds/Writing_Blues
Summary: “When it all becomes too much to bear, seek me out at my abode, in the dark depths of the tempest. There, you may complete your descend into madness with some dignity, far from prying eyes.”The Warrior of Light travels to the Tempest on his own, seeking answers. But Emet-Selch has other plans, despite the words he'd promised.A different take from if the WoL had managed to find Emet-Selch himself for answers. Set in the canon story of my own WoL.
Relationships: 14th Member of the Convocation of Fourteen/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch
Series: Our Story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614463
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers starts somewhere late into ShB. Around the middle to the end of the expansion. I will add the warnings in future chapters. Then again, if you're here and with the game being out for more than a few months, you most likely would've already finished ShB. 
> 
> As mentioned in my summary, this is based on my own canon story I've made up for my own WoL. Some parts may be confusing as I've actually written a separate part of this story set in the viewpoint of Emet-Selch. Its a complete mess and I've yet to get around to organizing or finishing it, but I will if I finish this side story.
> 
> Warnings: Some violence and sexual harassment that may be disturbing or trigger some readers.

_"As for my true identity..."_

_A red mask glows painfully bright as it was revealed from underneath a white glove._

_"Emet-Selch. Ascian."_

Blinking slowly, Marlais sucks in a deep breath when the first thing he registers was a pounding headache. Groaning softly, he scrunched his brows as he wills himself to ignore the pain. Just enough for him to take in his surroundings and collect his thoughts. 

Blinking through the blurriness at the edges of his vision, a lump starts to form in his throat when he spots the unfamiliar ceiling above him. The usual brown wood of his room in the pendent was replaced by smooth cement of cream colour. 

Now more alert than ever, he exhales slowly. Willing himself to stay calm and not jump to conclusions yet. Maybe something has happened along their journey in the first, and his friends had simply decided to take a lounge somewhere that wasn't in the Crystarium. 

Placing his weight on his elbows, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Clutching his head with a suppressed hiss when the action caused it to flare up, a sharp pain that cuts through his senses and leaving him nauseous. 

Seeing as he felt something give way underneath his hand when he sat up, he must be on a bed. Opening his eyes slowly when the pain seems to have subsided, he takes note of the black blanket that had been used to cover him. Beautiful designs were embroidered into it in swirls of gold and red, and he carefully runs his fingers across them. Saving the pattern to memory for future references. 

_I should find the others._

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he kneaded firmly at the spot in hopes of trying to ease the throbbing headache that seems to have came back with a vengeance. Was he hit by something on the head? Each throb felt like someone was squeezing his head with a large hand. It felt almost as if the Exarch was pulling at his soul again, but without the nauseating feel of his body being pulled through time and space. 

Heaving a soft sigh, he waited till he could move without feeling like his skull was slowly being split open. Pushing the blanket away, he briefly took note of the black robe he was wearing. Was he wearing this before? 

Turning to the side, he attempts to swing his legs off the bed when something tugs at his hand. Paying it no mind at first, he pulls that same hand back whilst moving closer to the edge of the bed only to have the same tug as before feel… stronger? 

Pausing, he tries again; this time forcefully tugging his hand to his chest. Only to be met with a strong resistance that has a lump forming in his throat. Tugging harder, he hissed when a particular harsh pull has him jerking strong enough to have the headache become a sharp pain. Ignoring it in favor of his hand, he looks down at it and froze. 

Wrapped around his wrist was black aether made to look like a sort of thick bracelet. It had been transparent before the tug-o-war, increasing in shade and strength the harder he pulled. 

Following the trail that was connected to the bracelet, he felt icy chills spread through him when a closer inspection reveals them to be chains. Or made to look like one. Tracing the chain to the other end of it, it was connected to the wall. Melding into it as if it had came from the wall itself. 

Swallowing, he wills himself to stay calm as he tugs at the chains again. Testing the resistance and concluding that he was better off trying to dispel it through the use of his own aether. Even without the necessary job stones, he knew enough of the basics to conjure a strong enough spell that will break through the aetheric bind. 

_Huh?_

There was nothing. The usual pools of aether that pulsed within was silent. Liked a dried well he could not find even a speck of it no matter how hard he searched and combed within himself. 

Marlais starts to feel the faintest hint of panic sink in when two realisation dawns on him. One, he aether was completely gone. Two, he was chained and unable to free himself. 

Swallowing thickly, he started to tug harder at the chain. Pulling at it with all his strength till his knuckles were white and his muscles ached from the strain. 

What happened before he was unconscious? Where were the scions? What is this place? Is Ardbert still with him? 

_"Marlais!'"_

"I see you are awake.'"

Frozen in place, Marlais held his breath when he hears the sound of a door closing shut. The sound of footsteps approaching him was next, and the panic within him grows. 

He didn't even realise there was a door. Worse yet, he didn't even _hear_ the door open. 

Staring wide-eyed at the ground before him, he continues to remain frozen to his spot even as black boots appear within his field of vision. Moving closer until it was covered up by the edge of the bed, replaced by the sight of a familiar black coat. 

"What's the matter? You can't be that anxious to look me in the eye, are you?"

Silky and taunting. Almost like a teacher scolding a misbehaving student. 

Lifting his head up, the bored expression of Emet-selch came into view. Which was quickly replaced with an unimpressed one when the man clicks his tongue. 

"I see the rejoining is still in progress. Forcing it was a dangerous move to your... _tattered_ soul but you had left me with little choice."

Stepping forward, Emet-selch bends at the waist as he leaned to the side, tilting his head towards him like he did the first time they met. Golden eyes flicked around in search for a moment, the intensity of it making him feel like he was under a scope. 

After a few seconds that felt like minutes, the ascian frowns. Seemingly not having found what he was looking for, he appeared almost… sad? 

"Even now there is no recognition. Does our promise mean nothing to you?" The words were whispered out softly as the ascian leaned closer, prompting Marlais to lean back out of unease at the sudden closeness. 

"I don't remember promising you anything." He bits out, trying to put a comfortable distance between the two of them when the ascian continued to study him like an alchemist would to a peculiar object. 

"Of course. _You_ did not promise me anything indeed." Pulling back, the ascian crosses his arms, a hand on his chin as he pondered. 

"Perhaps a more direct approach would be required."

Eyes widening, Marlais was barely given time to react when the chains suddenly pulled back. Dragging him back as his arms were pulled harshly to the side, till they smacked hard against the wall. The pain easily dulled by the one blooming from the back of his head when it collided against the headboard with a loud smack. 

Pain exploded like white sparks behind his lids, and he briefly hears himself let out a shout. Breathing heavily, he lets out a groan when his stomach twisted uncomfortably as a wave of dizziness followed. He feels so _sick._

He briefly registers a gloved hand gripping his jaw firmly, tilting his head up non too gently as Emet-Selch studies him. Gloved fingers pries his right eye open, and he lets out a pathetic whimper when the ascian jerks his head for a better look. 

"Still blue. I see Hydaelyn's influence still holds strong." The fingers pushing at his eyelids moves away, but the ones around his jaw remains. 

"Why? Why is it that you still cannot see me even after I've restored half your soul back to you?" He growls out as his expression changed to one of frustration. "Why do you persists in _hiding_ from me?"

Confusion worms its way inside, and he watched as the ascian's face contorts into one of anger. What does Emet-Selch mean? 

"Yet you chose to inhibit a vessel similar to your form. Or is this Hydaelyn's way of mocking me?" A dull chuckle fills the space between them that has Marlais shiver. "I didn't take you for a person with such twisted humour."

Silence hangs heavily between them when Emet-selch stops talking, and all Marlais could hear was his own heavy breaths. 

" _Broken thing._ You need to be fixed."

A finger that he assumes to be the thumb presses down on his lower lip, and Marlais feels a different kind of fear settled in his stomach when the action was repeated again with more force, pulling his lip down to expose his teeth. 

Surprisingly warm lips pressed against his own after Emet-selch forced his jaws apart with his hand. Something slimy follows after, and Marlais chokes when it moved all the way to the back of his throat. Shuddering heavily when it wiggled inside his mouth, sliding across the roof of his mouth and his teeth. And feels sick to his stomach when he realises it was Emet-selch _tongue._

In a moment of panic, he bites down as hard as he could. The taste of copper filling his mouth as a hiss followed close after. The tongue slides out from his mouth and Marlais turned to the side and started dry heaving. 

He really wants to throw up. 

"…" From the corner of his eye, he saw Emet-selch covering his mouth and feels the fear within his chest grow when golden eyes flashed with anger. 

"That _hurt_ , you know." Emet-selch said slowly as he level his gaze with Marlais. 

The hand gripping his jaw tightens to the point that he hissed out in pain. Though that moment was short lived when his head was forcefully jerked to the side, exposing his neck to the ascian. 

Everything happened so quickly that he could only bit out a scream when something sunk into his vulnerable flesh. Warm liquid trickles down his neck from where blunt teeth dug hard enough to draw blood. And for a terrifying moment he thinks the ascian would pull back with a chunk of his flesh. 

When the ascian moves away, he groaned when teeth were replaced by curious fingers. They ran across the wound, pressing at open ones that had him flinching in pain. The hand around his jaw slowly loosens its grip and Emet-selch tilts his head back. 

This time he doesn't fight back when lips were pressed against his own again, a thumb pushing in and pressing down on his tongue as his mouth was pried open. The pain made it hard to focus, and the short tussle between them has simply made the headache feel like someone was splitting his skull slowly from the inside out. 

All he could do was struggle weakly as Emet-selch continued with his harassment. Hands tugging at the aether chains that bound him to the headboard as the thumb was replaced with the ascian's tongue when the man was sure Marlais wouldn't bite again. 

The slide of the wet muscle had Marlais tensing with fear, and he chokes in his next breath when _something_ seemed to force its way down his throat. 

There was no texture, just pressure and warmth pushing down at his throat. It takes a few short moments for him to realise it was _raw aether_ pushing its way into him when a familiar prickle pokes at his skin. Like electricity running a path underneath his skin. 

Emet-Selch was feeding him raw aether. Through his _mouth._

He was not given time to ponder on _why_ the ascian was doing it however when a hot searing pain started to bloom from his chest. Spreading out through his body agonizingly slow, setting his nerves on fire and his mind in disarray. 

Briefly, through the buzzing blankness of his mind caused by the pain, he could hear someone screaming. The aether Emet-Selch had poured into him seemed to be running through his very veins. Like molten liquid it travels through him, all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers until his whole body felt like an open nerve. Yet the pain in his chest was the worse of all. 

In all his years of fighting Marlais has been poked, stabbed, slashed and punched, yet no pain quite equates to the one he was feeling at the moment. It felt as if someone had stabbed a burning rod into his chest and constantly twisted it. But it was _deeper_ and the desperate clawing at his own chest reveals it to be something a lot more intimate than a gaping hole. 

"Th-.. joining… feel.. pai-... rejc-... return-"

Something _tears_ and the screams becomes louder. 

"..give… me-.. br-"

Through the haze of his pain, his eyelid cracks open to look up at Emet-Selch-he could not remember when he had closed them-vision blurry from the tears weighing down his lashes. He watched as a gloved hand reaches towards him, unable to flinch away having been chained in place. 

He did not remember when Emet-Selch had moved away. 

The gloved hand moved closer, and he thinks it pressed itself to his chest. The pain made it hard to think, to move, to even do _anything._

A voice whispers in his mind, but he could barely hear it. It was almost as if he was submerged in water from how hollow it sounded. 

Another tear happens, the sound haunting enough he knows it would follow him into his dreams. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull, body simply unable to handle the stress of taking the pain even though there were _no wounds on his body._ And gratefully welcomes the slip into unconsciousness. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Identity of Emet-Selch and the crystal Exarch. Nothing straightforward, but major hints that points to it. After the fight with Vauthry onwards, some bits and pieces from the canon storyline.
> 
> Warnings: None.

When next he wakes, he wasn’t inside a room.

Blue flows around him, curling and twisting in tendrils, it surrounds him like wisps of smoke. Like the lifestream it forms a river, curling into a path below him. Pulsing, the light beckons and Marlais finds himself obliging. 

Where the light doesn’t touch, darkness looms. Looking around him as he walked, he spots tiny crystals floating around, illuminating the area around it with soft blue. Pulsing with the same beat as the river beneath his feet. 

_Marlais…_

A soft voice calls to him, echoing around the space and embracing him with it. Looking in front of him he sees a bright light, and finds himself picking up his pace to reach it. The tendrils shifts under his weight, swirling up to flick gently at his ankles before fading away behind him. 

He knows this place. He’s been here one too many times. 

The longer he runs, the stronger the light. It seemed to be pulling him, it brilliance reaching out the closer he was to it. Sucking him in and swallowing him whole when he reaches a hand out to grasp it. 

Bright light shines into his eyes, and Marlais raises an arm to shield them. Squinting through his lashes as the brilliance swallowed him whole. Tugging him with a force that has him gasping for breath, and almost stumbled to his knees if it weren’t for something to steady him.

The grip was firm, and he realises it was a hand when it squeezed his own. 

In that instance the light vanished, vaporizing into the darkness around him in exchange for soft blue glow that has led him to it. The twinkles of a crystal came into view, briefly reminding him of the crystals Exarch’s right hand when it comes under a light. 

_“Marlais.”_

Blinking his eyes rapidly, he looks up and comes face to face with a white mask. Blue eyes stared back at him through the holes where the eyes would be. Deep and bottomless it shone with a familiar brilliance, and he finds himself breathing out a name.

“Minfillia?”

The being smiles, and then he noticed the black cloak it was wearing. 

_“Do I sound like a ‘Minfillia’ to you?”_

Marlais blinks. And blinks again when the masculinity of the voice sinks in.

“No.”

The being chuckles, blue eyes shining with mirth despite the blankness it holds.

_“Not even an apology? Goodness, did the sundering strip you of your manners?”_

Blinking again, Marlais swallowed before hastily offering an apology. The words stumbled from his mouth, messy in his confusion as he tried to make sense of the situation. Much to the amusement of the cloaked man.

_“This is quite peculiar. Listening to me apologising to myself.”_

The hand that had stopped his fall retreats, and Marlais rubs the area absently as he looks back at the man. Whom was watching him with open interest, blue orbs unnerving in their blankness, lacking the usual warmth Minfillia would hold in hers. 

_“You are no doubt confused, I do apologise for pulling you into this space.”_ Reaching out again, the man absently pats Marlais head, the gesture fond as the man smiles at him. 

Marlais could only stare back at the man with increasing confusion. They were the _same height._

_“Do you make that same face with Hades as well? I can almost imagine his frustrations. Looking at you, giving you answers that you should know the questions to. Silently_ begging _for you to do it.”_

Knowing not how to reply, he kept his silence. That’d always been the best answer when it came to situations like this, also the fastest way to get his answers even.

_“You want to know who I’m speaking of? Well my dear warrior, you need but look around you. He has always been there. Waiting. Watching._ Scheming _. Hoping one day to be reunited with days long gone, with bonds that have been broken.”_

Silence. The man’s smile softens with sadness.

_“When you find out who the name belongs to, I will see you again, Marlais. Though I’m sure it wouldn’t take you long to put the dots together. You are a part of_ me _after all.”_

The man reaches forward, placing a hand to the middle of his chest.

_“Now, my dear warrior of light, it is time for you to wake up. You wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”_

The hand _pushed_ and Marlais feels the ground below him give way, if there was ever really a ground at all within the dark space. Like in a dream he falls back, unable to move his limbs as he descended backwards very, very slowly.

Blue eyes watched him through a white mask as the man retreats, _fusing_ back in with the crystal. The material cracks softly as it reassembles, breaking and reforming itself back around the cloaked figure.

_“You have a precious name, don’t let him take it away.”_

Gravity rights itself back, and he _falls._

* * *

  
  


When he wakes again, he was back inside the room. 

Exhaling slowly, Marlais stares up at the ceiling, thoughts blissfully empty as the sound of his soft breath fills the room, the only sound in it even.

He wasn’t sure how long he remained in that state before he finally decides to move. The first thing he did was place a hand to his neck, fingers feeling against soft skin he expected to run across lumps or feel sharp sparks of pain. When none were present, he sucks in a breath and close his eyes. 

Fray’s existence may have been close enough for him to think he’d tipped over the edges of sanity, but if he’d _really_ imagined the whole scene that has took place between him and Emet-Selch, well...

The scions will need a new warrior of light. Or darkness. And he can happily retire from his adventuring days. In a _nursing ward._

Just to be sure, he checks again. This time checking the pillow he had laid on for any signs of dried blood, and unfastening the black robe to see if there were any around the collar too. When there was none to be found, Marlais heaved a soft sigh as he tiredly rubbed at his own face. 

Seemed like the stress of saving the world had finally took its toll on him. 

Even the headache was _gone._ His mind was clear and sharp, making the possibility of that horrendous headache nothing but a distasteful nightmare. Even the pain in his chest was gone, with only the lingering throb of a phantom ache where he absently rubbed at with a hand. 

And the _tearing_ he had heard through his mind, the thought of what it could possibly be terrifies him. It was the first time since the start of his journey at the first that Marlais felt at ease when he could still feel the burn of the light, even if it was bursting at the seams, threatening to break his soul and scatter it back to the lifestream. 

He was still holding on, the light has yet to run out of control. 

_Not for long._

With his head free of the headache, he was starting to recollect the moment before he had woken up in this strange room- _before_ that whole fiasco with Emet-Selch. Ryne had managed to bind the primordial light within him, forcefully sealing it into obedience and allowing him to be lucid enough to make his way out of the inn. Still, his thoughts remained scattered from there on.

_“When it all becomes too much to bear, seek me out at my abode, in the dark depths of the tempest. There, you may complete your descend into madness with some dignity, far from prying eyes.”_

Right. He’d approached the stables in the Crystarium and requested for an Amaro. And somehow miraculously made his way deep enough into the ocean floor to reach the tempest, then further still into Emet-Selch’s territory. All of it without being caught on yet by the scions. 

_Dark. Dark. Dark. There was no light so deep down within the ocean waters. All he could feel was the cold against his skin, stealing away at his warmth as he clung to the harness of his mount. The primordial light within his soul a stark contrast to the uninviting cold of the sea, burning hot within his core as it writhed like a hungry beast._

Something in his chest clenched, and he recognizes it as guilt when his thoughts recalled on the faces he’d seen of his friends before he passed out in Vauthry’s sanctum. Worry, anger, panic. The open expression of guilt on Urianger’s face when the man stopped the scions from tackling the Exarch to the ground. Turning into _self-hate_ when the ascian whisked away with the Exarch in tow, leaving a broken warrior behind that may very well be better off _dead._

No. Not the Exarch anymore. He’d known when the man first brought him to the Crystarium. The talk they shared at Khoulsia more than confirmed his suspicion. 

Fingers digging into his robe, Marlais absently rubs at his arm, the same place that the cloaked man had gripped in his dreams. Or was it not a dream?

_In the distance, he hears a faint sound of water being sucked in. Like a black hole, it was invisible within the darkness, a hungry void that swallows everything near it. And he,_ he _was near it. Fear gripped his being when the void claims him as prey, and he quickly calls his mount away._

**_“He has always been there. Waiting. Watching._ Scheming _.”_**

_In the back of his mind, he relieved in knowing that his mount got away safely. The gurgling of water was loud against his ears as the void swallowed him along with part of the seawater. His clothes stuck to his skin when he enters the belly of the void, the water disappearing immediately as unwanted matter except for the ones that soaked into his gear._

**_“You have a precious name,”_ **

_Something circles his waist, tightening as if afraid he would run away. But how could he in such empty space? There was nowhere he could run, in the belly of the void. And a voice whispers beside his ear when that same steel-like grip circles his chest._

_“You’ve come.”_

_The grip_ tugs. _And he_ falls _._

**_“don’t let him take it away.”_ **

Uncurling his arms, Marlais swings his legs to the side. Feet planted firmly on the group, he stands expecting aetherial chains to hold him back, and further still till he was pinned to the headboard. Again, he was met with nothing except the lingering thought of wondering whether he had walked past the edge of sanity.

The ground was cold against his bare feet, and he walked briskly towards the room’s door, expecting it to be locked when he twisted the handle. When it gave under his grip, he tried his best to calm the frantic beating of his heart as he pushed the door open. 

**_“don’t let him.._ **

When the door moves out, he expects Emet-Selch to be waiting there, staring him down with his golden gaze. But once again there was nothing there, and Marlais takes his first step out of the room when he lets go of the handle.

**_...take it away.”_ **

Breathing in slowly, he looks down at the long stretch of a large hallway before him. A chandelier hangs in the middle of it, the structure dwarfing him with its width and height. Despite the large space, he feels trapped. Like a mouse thrown into a large maze against its will, forced to play out a game for another’s curiosity. 

Exhaling out a quick breath, he stills his breathing, uncaring of when it had become frantic in his paranoia. Hands curled into fists, he looks ahead, determination setting in as his face hardens with renewed purpose.

He was running on borrowed time. He has to find Emet-Selch, punch the answers out of where G’raha Tia was from the ascian and _leave._

With that thought in mind, he starts running down the hallway. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: None.
> 
> Warnings: None.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly speaking, the story is pretty much just writing itself for now. I may have to change the summary in the future as I feel like I'm straying away from what I intentionally had in mind. Regardless, I do hope this chapter provides some answers to the confusion the first two chapter caused. Even I'm confused by what I wrote.
> 
> On another note, I really hope I nailed Ardbert down properly.

When he found Emet-Selch, the ascian had his back turned to him. 

Catching his breath, Marlais takes in his surroundings when it seemed the man had decided on ignoring his presence. For what exactly, he wasn’t very keen on finding out, afraid of what he may find.

It was an open room, with a wall window that Emet-Selch was facing towards. His usual slouched posture exchanged for a straighter one with his gloved hands clasped neatly behind his back. To the side lay simple in house furniture, a fireplace and other trinkets Marlais couldn’t identify.

Perhaps the most notable piece was the large instrument that sat in the middle of the room, just beside where Emet-Selch was standing. Its structure was held up by thick glass, enabling Marlais to see the inner structure of the equipment. Wires neatly arranged and knotted strategically to fit into white tiles and what seemed to be tiny wooden hammers. The wood that covered the sides were painted jet black, complemented by the cream and dark colours of the marble floors and walls.

Turning to look behind his shoulder, Emet-Selch watched him quietly, before parting his lips to speak out a single word;

“Come.”

Tensing, Marlais narrowed his eyes at Emet-Selch, whom simply sighed at the action. 

“Do I have to lay a carpet down for you? Come. I have something to show you.”

Still hesitant to move closer to the ascian, Marlais stood his ground. The action prompted a deeper sigh, and Emet-Selch narrowed his own eyes in irritation. 

“If you want your questions answered, then come along. We don’t have all day, you know. Especially _you._ ”

That small emphasis alone reminded Marlais of _why_ exactly he had left his friends behind in the crystarium. Still hesitant but reminded of his purpose, he moved forward, bare feet barely making a sound as he made his way to stand beside the ascian. Whom golden gaze followed him the whole way.

It made his hair stand on end, to be watched so closely like that. 

“Good. I wouldn’t want to have resorted to more _direct_ means if you’ve chosen to remain stubborn.”

The threat was not missed, and cold chills prickles his skin in response. Absently he rubbed at his chest with a hand, the action not missed by Emet-Selch’s watchful gaze as the ascian examined him from head to toe. 

For a moment Marlais had the urge to bring the robe tighter around himself, make himself smaller. But he resisted the urge and gave the ascian a questioning look instead, arms laid limply by his side. His twitching fingers betraying his play at a relaxed pose.

He knew Emet-Selch saw the question in his eyes, but instead of speaking, the ascian simply turned his gaze back forward. Looking out of the wall window for Twelve knows what, and holds his silence until Marlais finally peeled his gaze away from his form and toward the window as well.

Having the ascian out of his sight puts him on edge, and so he kept glancing back and forth between the two. Wishing that Emet-Selch would just start _talking_ instead of… of whatever this was that the ascian was trying to do. 

“Look. Do you see that tree over there?”

A single gloved hand pointed to the distance, and Marlais followed it. All just so he could get the ascian to talk if it meant playing along with his tune. 

Indeed a tree was spotted in the distance. It was… nothing impressive, much like the trees that resides in Gridania it looked old and sturdy. Nothing that makes one let out a breath of awe like the ones he sees in the Rak'tika Greatwoods. Much less so when compared to the grand structures of buildings that seemed endless, yellow lights appearing like lanterns in the dark corners of the sea.

Even so, if Emet-Selch had asked him to look at it, there must be something special. He doubted the ascian would be bored enough to toy with him in such a childish manner. Though what exactly, he can’t seem to spot it, growing increasingly on edge when he can _feel_ the stare on him from the ascian. It made that phantom ache on his chest throb, his mind recalling on the _excruciating pain_ that had bloomed from the spot.

_Burning. Burning. Burning. Like a hot rod being constantly twisted into his chest._

He rubbed at the spot with a hand, hyper-aware of the golden gaze that never seemed to leave.

“Where is the Exarch?” If Emet-Selch refused to speak, then Marlais will do it.

Silence, but if there’s anything being a warrior of light has taught him, it was patience.

“Did you seriously made it all the way down here just so you could _ask me_ where the Crystal Exarch is?”

Turning to face Emet-Selch fully, he frowned when the ascian had an incredulous look directed at him. Unwilling to back down however, he gave a firm nod and was awarded with a startled laugh from the man. 

“ _Incredible._ Even now you choose to walk hand in hand with your role. And what a _splendid_ actor you are indeed, playing as the oh-so benevolent warrior of light. Or is it darkness now?” A smirk curls on the corner of thin lips, and the _look_ the man sends him had him tensing up like he would for a fight. “But. I suppose it doesn’t matter. You are here to save the day, as you’ve always did. Do you not tire of this play? This... _act_ of being a hero?”

Emet-Selch was _mocking_ him. And the words stung as much as the first time he’d heard them, from a man with the same face as him, dressed in black armour. 

“I didn’t ask you a question to get a question.” 

“No...No you did not. You came here seeking for another option, but you’re going to be disappointed.” The smirk turns into a cruel smile when Emet-Selch turned around to face him properly. “This is _your_ sin. And I will be here, watching as you slowly turn into an eater of this world. After trying so _hard_ to save it.”

“However-” Unclasping his hand from behind his back, Emet-Selch lowers them to his side, “-I will tell you where the Exarch is, seeing as you won’t be able to retrieve him. Or reach him really.” 

“Stop beating around the bush.” Glaring, he feels the pinpricks of frustration as he too turned around to face the ascian eye to eye. “I’m not going to keep playing your little games-”

“The void.” The smile disappeared, and Marlais felt his stomach drop. “Unless you’re capable of creating one, you won’t be able to find him. Provided that you even know _where_ to look, that is.” 

_The gurgling of water was loud against his ear as the void swallowed him along with part of the seawater._

“That void back then... it was you?”

“Oh yes. Despite the legendary strength of your stamina, even you struggled to find your way into the bottom.” An unimpressed expression takes over, and Emet-Selch tsked softly at the memory. “Brave, but foolish. If I hadn’t retrieved you, you would’ve died trying to make your way here. And the sea would be the very first thing you’ll destroy when the light takes over your corpse.”

“Nevertheless! I’ve now answered two of your questions, warrior. Shouldn’t you be doing something for me in return, hm?”

A lump forms in his throat, and that scene he was ready to discard as a fevered illusion comes back to haunt him. 

_Warm liquid trickles down his neck from where blunt teeth dug hard enough to draw blood. Curious fingers pressing at open wounds.  
_

A hand snatches up to clasp at the area on his throat where the bite had occurred. Fingers desperately smoothing over soft skin in search of lumps that were absent. Hand squeezing down at the memory of blunt teeth sinking into his flesh. 

Emet-Selch noticed and shook his head. 

“Oh no. _No._ That was caused by your own hand. The strain of the primordial light on your soul caused your mind to go into disarray. What _you_ have remembered was not what has happened. You-” Reaching a gloved hand up, Emet-Selch used a finger to tap at a spot on his neck, “-started clawing at your own neck when I forced aether through it. I had to pry your hands off before you could dig out anymore flesh. It was an annoyance fixing you back, but more so if I'd left you more broken than you are now. I still have plans for you, after all.”

“The primordial light was harder to contain when I tore you apart, but not a huge worry when I stitched you back together, after a few add-ons. Though I had to physically restrain you when it burned away the aetheric chain. Quite irritating, really, being allergic to the light’s brilliance myself. Courtesy of being tempered by Zodiark, if you will.”

If what Emet-Selch was saying was true, then…

The hand that had been on his neck clasp his mouth. If the situation wasn't as bizarre as it was now, he would've felt scandalized that Emet-Selch had intentionally harassed him with a forced _kiss._ But he had more serious matters to worry about.

The ache from within his chest flared, and the hand that had been used to rub the spot reached up to press down on it. Fingers twisting into the black robes when his chest tightened to the point that he found it hard to breath. 

His _soul._ Emet-Slech had been _tearing_ at his _soul-_

“Why?” Struggling to talk through the tightness forming in his throat, Marlais blinked rapidly, urging his lungs to expand enough for him to breath. “Why go through all this trouble? You-” _you could just kill me and be done with it._

“Because this is _your_ sin. _Your_ punishment.” 

Emet-Selch took a step forward. Marlais blinked and took a step back. 

“I must admit I humoured the idea of passing the reign to you should you have succeeded in taming Vauthry’s light. But,” Another step forward again from the ascian, and he quickly took a step back. “you have proven to fail in that regard. A disappointment, really. Considering how rude you were when you’ve foiled the last few _millenniums_ of our plans.”

“I was tempted to leave you dead and adrift in the ocean. Why humour your pathetic attempts at rebelling against fate when you’ve disappointed me again by _failing_ to even reach the Tempest?” Emet-Selch took another step forward, and another, forcing Marlais to keep taking steps backwards as the man spoke. “But then I realise you can serve another purpose still. As a dying man it wouldn’t matter, the action would’ve simply sped up the process and give you your peace sooner.”

Another step forward. Another step back.

“You may not remember, but I. _I do._ All these years of waiting, watching, _scheming_ in the dark. All because of _you._ ” The last word was hissed out in anger as the ascian continued to prowl forward, backing him into a corner. 

_“He has always been there. Waiting. Watching._ **_Scheming_ ** _.”_

“Remember. Remember us!” 

Back pressed to a wall, the panic flaring in his chest threatened to burst when he realised he had nowhere to run to. Emet-Selch had followed his every step, and simply cornered him further by moving in quickly. 

No, no, no. He could still escape. There was an opening to the side, he simply needed to just _dodge to the side-_

“Remember that we once _lived!_ ”

Aetheric chains materialized behind him, shooting out and circling him, pinning him against to the wall at a snap of a finger. An attempt at struggling was rewarded with a chain slithering itself across his neck, pressing down on his adam apple and causing him to choke on a startled gasp as it bound him in place.

_Like molten liquid it travels through him. His whole body reduced to an open nerve._

He felt a hand pressed against his chest, unable to jerk away when the pressure increased. All he could do was look down at the gloved hand, heart beating frantically as his panic grew out of proportions at the thought of what Emet-Selch was planning to do. Black spots were beginning to form at the edge of his vision, and he blinks rapidly through them. 

_He thinks a hand was pressed to his chest through the haze of the pain. And another tear echoes through his mind._

The pressure grew, and he felt something _give,_ watching with mute horror when Emet-Selch’s hand sinks slowly into his chest. All the way till the ascian’s hand was wrist deep within him before the man grasped something inside and _tugs._

The tear that sound through his mind was louder and longer than anything he’d heard before, and pain crashed his senses hard enough to leave him numb. His body instinctively started struggling violently against the chains as he tried desperately to move away from the hand.

When his ears stopped ringing and he heard a scream in the distance, he knew it was from him.

* * *

“Marlais. Hey, hey… wake up!”

Someone calls to him, the voice gruff and familiar.

“Hey, you can hear me, right? Come on hero, wake up.”

A hand shook his shoulder, and Marlais stirs. 

“That’s it. Listen to my voice, Marlais. You need to wake up.”

And he does. With the voice as his guide he slowly wakes, brows furrowing as his eyelids squinted before slowly lifting. Groaning when a bright light shined on him, burning his gaze before he lifts a hand up to shield himself from it. 

“Good. Here, take my hand. I’ll help you get up.”

Large hands gripped his arm, and he felt the strength of it when it tightened and pulled him upright slowly into a sitting position. Reaching out, his arms fumbled until they landed on a hard surface, fingers curling to get a grip as he steadied himself. 

Rubbing at his eyes, Marlais slowly opened them again, and comes face to face with the concerned look Ardbert was giving him. 

“Ardbert?”

A rueful smile, and he felt Ardbert squeeze his arms. “The one and only.”

“You’re a lot more solid than I remember.”

And the man was. The once translucent visage of the man were replaced with solid colours, and he appeared just like the time Marlais had seen him years ago on his own world. A hardened warrior with that same old bloodied axe strapped to his back. 

“Yeah, well. We’re not exactly in the _real_ world? I’m a lot more solid here in your mind than out of it.”

“I don’t..” Blinking, he tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

The concerned expression grew, and Ardbert frowned as he carefully spoke his next words.

“What _do_ you remember before coming here, Marlais?”

_Pain. Pain. Pain. Golden eyes watching him with an anger he doesn’t understand._

“Pain.” A hand reached up to rub at a spot on his chest where a phantom ache throbbed. “..Something tearing that I can hear inside my head. I don’t-”

_A hand pressed against his chest. And he watched with mute horror as it sinks in._

“Shit! Calm down, Marlais! It’s okay, _it’s okay_.” 

_The hand grips something within him, and_ **_tugs._ **

“ _Fuck!_ Breath, Marlais. _Breath._ In and out.” 

Ardbert shakes him, and he blinks rapidly when the action startled him enough to jostle his brain into alertness. His chest was tight, and it _hurts._

_Something tears, long and loud in his mind. And then pain._

_It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithur-_

“Breath _. Breath!”_

Another shake, and he chokes when Ardbert pulled him forward. Strong arms wrapped around him, locking his limbs to the side when he’d started struggling violently enough to start clawing at his own chest. A hand pressed down on the middle of his back, Ardbert’s voice sounding hollow in his ears as if the man was speaking to him from underwater. 

“You have to hold on. Stay awake, Marlais. You need to _calm down._ ”

He jerked, struggling harder in Ardbert’s grip with the man tightening his hold in response.

He needs to run, he needs to-

“Listen to my voice. _Listen._ Please.”

He wasn’t sure how long the struggling continued until he finally calmed down. Ardbert speaking to him the whole time, never pausing till he went lax in the man’s grip and his head slumped against his shoulder. 

The tightness was gone from his chest, and the phantom ache dulled when Ardbert’s voice becomes clear and loud against his ears. 

Silence hangs between them after, Ardbert having stopped talking when he stilled in his arms. 

Feeling awkward at the closeness between them, Marlais pats firmly at Ardbert’s arm. Immediately the hold around him loosens, and the man quickly retreats to put some space between them. Hands hovering for a moment, Ardbert sighed softly and moved to sit in front of him, crossing his legs and resting his arm on his knees. 

“Sorry, I just.. You looked like you were going to-” Ardbert shook his head, “I know this is your mind and all that, but I wasn’t sure what would happen if I’d let you continue in that state. You started to become all pale, like you were about to _fade_ away. So I panicked and-” rubbing the back of his neck, Ardbert eyes narrowed as he struggled to find words. “-did what I did.”

Pulling his legs to himself, he props a knee up and rest his arm on it, the other left to lay limply on another leg. “...You did what you had to. Its fine.” Rubbing his eyes with the hand that was propped up, he looks back up slowly to meet Ardbert's eye, “Thank you, Ardbert.”

“Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

A smile, and Marlais returned it.

“So, you mentioned this place,” Turning his head around, he takes in the tall, large trees that surround them. “Being my mind?”

“A safe place conjured up by your mind.” Ardbert corrects, “Hell, I don’t even know how that makes sense. I was simply told this by a cloaked man wearing a white mask. He told me that I’ll be ‘safe here from his assault’ before disappearing.” 

“You’ve met him?”

“Who? The man with the white mask?” Seeing the nod from him, Ardbert continued, “Well yeah, he was the one who brought me here after Emet-Selch or whatever did something to you that made me unable to materialize in the living world. Not that it really matters, I’m a ghost there. Still am. But its easier to speak to you outside than in your mind.” 

_A voice whispers in his mind, but he could barely hear it. It was almost as if he was submerged in water from how hollow it sounded._

“That voice in my head. ...Was that you?” 

“Aye. I tried calling out to you from here. Whatever that ascian was doing to you, it was _bad._ You see those trees?” Ardbert gestured to the surrounding trees, “They started dying. Shriveling up and all that. Some of them even started breaking apart by themselves, and the plants on the ground did the same thing.” 

Absently he runs a hand through the grass and flowers both of them sat on. They ruffled under his ministrations, tickling his palm when his hand stopped at a blue flower between his fingers. Its petals bright enough that they seemed to glow.

“Then those started sprouting.” Pointing to the blue flowers between Marlais’ fingers, Ardbert made a motion with his hands. “All over. They almost covered the entire ground before the trees started coming back to life. Looking better than ever, even.”

“How did I end up here?” 

Ardbert face becomes grim, and he motioned to the flowers again. “The flowers. They brought you here. What Emet-Selch did to you the first time, the second time was worse. The trees started bursting into flames. White flames, looking eerily like the ones that happens to you when the light gets out of control.” Ardbert then points to a corner, “Then that crater cracked open when this place started burning down. Would’ve been destroyed for good if those flowers hadn’t stepped in again.” 

“And then-” Ardbert turned his gaze back to Marlais, “-those blue flowers started spawning in rapid amounts before you appeared along with it. It was like the ground _gave birth_ to you. Weird analogy, I know, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”

The bizarreness of the scenario Ardbert had explained made his head ache, and Marlais rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he tried to digest it. 

“Insane, I know.” Not missing the action, Ardbert gave a light shrug. “But from the fact on how you’ve made it here through some-” Waving his arms, the man tried to imitate what he thought a caster would do when weaving spells, “-weird magic incantations the Exarch did? That pulled you across time and space into this world? That's insane too, in my opinion. But that always seems to happen a lot in your case, doesn’t it?”

Snorting, Marlais tried to hold back his laugh, “Not _always._ ” 

Ardbert, on the other hand, does not. The man laughing as he responded with, “No, but you admit it does happen.”

Smiling, he nodded at the words, earning a smile from Ardbert. Though it dropped as soon as it came. 

“What are you going to do now?”

What was he going to do now? He wasn’t sure how he got here, and going back probably only meant more pain. And bearing the brunt of Emet-Selch’s anger. 

_“Because this is_ **_your_ ** _sin”_

“Did the cloaked man tell you where I could find him?” 

“No.” Ardbert narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember, “No, he did not. You trust him?”

_The man absently pats Marlais head, the gesture fond as the man smiled at him._

“He hasn’t hurt me thus far, and he told me he’ll see me again when I figured out who the name belongs to.”

“Name?”

“Hades.” Blinking down at the flowers, he absently stroked one of the petals. It was smooth, like rich silk beneath the pad of his fingers. 

“Well,” Looking up, he sees the frown forming on Ardbert’s lips, “have you?”

_“He has always been there. Waiting. Watching._ **_Scheming._ ** _”_

_“You may not remember, but I._ **_I do._ **_All these years of waiting, watching, **scheming** in the dark. All because of _ **_you_ ** _.”_

The flowers beneath him shivered, dancing to an invisible wind as the ground groaned beneath him. 

Panic took over Ardbert’s face, and he watched as the man reached a hand out in a motion to grab him. Though it was too late by then when blue flowers shot up from the ground, roots trailing behind its delicate stem as it wrapped around him in an embrace, and the ground _gives._

“I believe I have.”

The ground swallows him as more roots sprung out, curling protectively around him as they pulled him deeper. It must be a horrifying scene for Ardbert, watching him get eaten by the ground as he tried to grab him. Only to reach thin air when the ground reacted faster than he did by pulling him under with the flower's roots. 

He takes a final inhale before the ground closed up around him, bracing himself when the soil beneath gave way _._

Eyes squeezed shut, he felt no fear when gravity tugged him harshly. Only the sweet scent of flowers and _falls._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers: Maybe some DRK quests, but you won't really get it unless you've finished them in all honesty. And the later half of the SHB canon story line. Along with the some parts of the aether current quests story that you can do after unlocking Amarout.
> 
> Warnings: None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while. I had it wrote out a while back, but didn't want to finish it since I wanted to fully flesh out the kind of character I wanted for the Amaroutine the canon WoL seemed to be a part of. 
> 
> It was equal parts fun and frustrating. I didn't want to wholly believe the Amaroutine that the WoL is a part of to be some benevolent being who was all powerful and knew what they were doing. Or this really kind person who made Hydaelyn the way she is. That is not to say I think Zodiark is the good man in the canon FFXIV story, but Emet-Selch had made it clear that what they had done to be a form of miscalculated mistake. 
> 
> One trend I realise was that all Amaroutines are arrogant, in the sort of 'I knew more than you could ever know, so what I do is right and for your own good' kind of way. Which I get. Wouldn't you be too when you're dealing with a bunch of people with lifespans the like of flies and knew nothing about the original world? I bet at some point Emet-Selch just see us as a bunch of babies with lethal weapons. Very dangerous babies but babies nonetheless. 
> 
> Either way, I do hope I managed to portray what I had intended in mind into this story. For now I have some semblance of how I want this story to go, but as always, things don't go according to plan since I'll eventually come up with new ideas.

_ “-ey.” _

Brows furrowing, Marlais curled tighter on himself when something poked his cheek.

_ “I saw you move! Come now, you can sleep later, warrior.” _

Something poked his cheek again. The force of it was harder when it was repeated, but he didn't budge and only frowned in response. The scent of the flowers still lingered around him, creating a haze in his mind and making him drowsy with sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this… peaceful. Without feeling like the primordial light was trying to crawl its way out of his heart. Writhing and wretched, a hungry beast that craved an entire star. 

_ “It’s rude to keep a person waiting, and rudeness requires befitting punishment!” _

The promising words had him furrowing his brow, dread creeping to his hazy mind when whatever it was that had been poking his cheek moved away. Dozing in and out of the fog in his head, he half expected something to happen. And true to the voice’s words, something jabbed him hard  _ between the ribs.  _

With a loud yelp -one where he won’t admit to making  _ later _ \- he jumped up into a sitting position. Arms flailing as he instinctively moved to steady himself. Eyes wide, he blinked in confusion as his then waking mind tried to process what had just happened. Blinking again when he heard a poorly hidden snicker near him. 

_ “I knew that would work. Do your friends know that you’re ticklish? I sure hope not. Such a precious little secret should be kept hidden close to your heart.” _

With how fast he’d turned his head around to locate the voice, Marlais was surprised he didn’t end up twisting a muscle. 

Bottomless blue eyes looked back at him through a bone white mask. The same cloaked man he’d seen back in Hydaelyn’s domain had a smile directed at him, hunching over his curled form from where he was sitting crossed legged in front of him. That same hand that had poked him in the ribs hovering between them.

He’s still having a hard time digesting it. The way the blue crystals had fused with him, as if the man had always been a part of it. Wasn’t Hydaelyn’s avatar only supposed to be Minfillia?

_ “Are you awake now? Good. We don’t have long before I have to send you back _ .” The man continued softly, moving his hand away to rest it on his lap whilst placing a respectable distance between them. Looking perfectly relaxed and calm, as if he hadn’t just literally snatched Marlais consciousness away from his ‘safe space’ and giving Ardbert quite the scare by having the ground swallow his target. 

Hands pressing to the ground, he slowly pushed himself up. The same blue flowers that had covered him cushioned his ground with its soft petals. Like a sea of blue they were all over, as far as the eye could see and further still. As before, they seemed to glow softly of their own accord, illuminating the area enough for him to point out thick barks of what could only belong to an old tree. 

He followed the trail of barks up to thin branches, spread out far and wide like a protective shelter, it follows no pattern. Thick and thin, criss-crossed and overlapping, the branches seemed never-ending, and he finds himself breathing out slowly in awe at the beautiful wildness it seemed keen to represent.

_ “Beautiful, isn’t it?”  _ A voice spoke softly behind him, bringing him back to reality.

“Yes.”  _ And familiar too. Like I’ve seen it somewhere before.  _ Were the words he doesn’t say. No need for the man to know what he thought further of it.

Turning back to face the man, he noted that the place the other had dragged him to was similar to the one he’d entered the first time. There were no crystals to be found, but the familiar darkness loomed around them, with only the flowers  _ and stars twinkling above them _ providing the needed light when he looked up to check. 

_ “Your soul could not take the strain of being pulled to Hydaelyn’s domain, so I pulled you here instead. A space I conjured that brings you just far enough away from his influence, without straining your soul too much.”  _ The man spoke up again when he realised Marlais wasn’t going to be doing it anytime soon.

He watched as a gloved hand reached down to the flowers beneath them, plucking one out and up to twirl it between gloved fingers. 

_ “These flowers were done by my hand, yes. What Ardbert told you about them in your safe space was also my doing. I had to interfere before the light consumed you entirely. Consider it my trademark if you will. Much like Hades and his ability in creating grand structures.”  _ At his perplexed expression, the cloaked man moved to explain.  _ “The buildings you saw outside the window were his creation. He was given the title of ‘The Architect’ after all.” _

The smile became strained, and he watched as the flower between gloved fingers faded away in fine sand.

_ “Before the days Amaurot went up in flames of course.” _

Brows furrowing, Marlais looked down at the flowers beneath him, hands crushing the few that were unfortunate enough to be under his palm when he curled his hand into fists. The silent answer the man’s words provided making his chest clench. 

He was almost afraid to speak out the next words, but found himself doing it regardless. He had to know. He had the  _ right  _ to know. 

  
  


**_“This is_ ** **your** **_sin”_ **

  
  


“You’re an ascian.”

The smile was gone, replaced by an impassive expression as the cloaked man stared at him. Blue eyes unblinking and eerily blank. 

_ “Yes.” _

Nails dug hard enough to form crescent shaped marks on his palm. The pain numbed out by the squeezing tightness in his chest. 

_ “Have you figured it out? The answer to the question.” _

The flowers, he noted, were glowing in a hue so bright they almost blended together, resembling a lake. And he lets himself be mesmerized by the shade, choosing not to notice the numbness that was slowly forming in his chest. 

“You brought me here, didn’t you? So I must have.”

_ “Indeed.”  _ The man said, and almost like an after-thought, added,  _ “Aren’t you going to ask why?” _

Why? Why does Emet-Selch seem to hate him so much? Why had the cloaked man wanted him to figure out who ‘Hades’ was? Why did Emet-Selch look at him as if the man had known him forever but yet Marlais was sure he’d only heard of the man since the first day he met him in the Crystarium?

Why, why, why. So many questions, and he could ask till he croaked but any answers he’d received had only been angry glares or confusing half-rants of an equally angry man.

The man doesn’t respond, seemingly content with waiting patiently for Marlais to reply. Even when the warrior had proceeded to curl up on himself, bringing his knees to his chest as hands curled into fist at each side of his head. Fingers dug harshly into his scalp as the warrior struggled to keep his emotions under control.

_ Hand sinking into his chest. Fingers tugging inside him when they had no right to be in there. Kept in the dark and used by two of his friends, only to be done so further under a mad ascian’s hand. The primordial light writhing inside him, clawing against its cage as it craved the taste of a whole star, a star that wasn’t his world. Wasn’t his home. _

_ You’re a walking dead man. Why continue to let them pull you along this farce? Weapon of light... Oh weapon of light. We could be free. We can still be free. _

“Give me one good reason,” He said slowly, trying to work the words through the tightness in his jaw, “that I shouldn’t just ignore you and try to leave right now.”

_ “Because you want answers, more than you want to go back and find the Exarch. More than you want to save this world.” _ The masked man replied without missing a beat. And he knew the man was watching every one of his movements, even if he couldn’t see it, it was intense enough he could  _ sense  _ it from the rising hair at the back of his neck. 

“Ah. Is being a ‘mind reader’ one of  _ you _ ascian’s quirks too?” He remarked sarcastically, unable to hold back the snap in his voice as he turned around to glare at the man. He let his hand drop from the side of his head, and pushed himself to stand up. Mouth already moving before the masked man could answer, his lips pulled back into a half-snarl. 

“What’s next? Are you going to tell me my fate as a eater is inevitable? That I’m going to kill my friends? Bring the world to doom?” His breath was becoming faster, and the sight of the man’s unblinking expression seemed to make the anger within him  _ bubble.  _ “Toying with my head, and then dragging me here and there like a _ bloody ragdoll.  _ And now you’re putting words in my mouth. Am I too broken for even you, too?” 

_ Don’t claim to know me.  _ His mind hissed angrily.  _ You know nothing.  _ **_Nothing._ **

_ But you know him to be right. You know it. You want answers, you deserve it. Why should they deny us this right? Who were the ones that’s risking himself to save this star? _

Pacing back and forth, he doesn’t pay attention to how he was crushing the flowers underneath his feet, or how his chest was tight enough to the point he was struggling to take another breath. 

“Or call me a murderer? That would be pretty fitting won’t it? Since Emet-Selch-Hades-whatever his name is, seemed to think I’m  _ you. _ ” He stopped in his tracks, breathing hard through his nose as anger coursed through him like an adrenaline haze. “That’s it, isn’t it? The way he looked at me, you knew _.  _ You agree you’re an ascian, and you know his name. The way you talked about him, you  _ knew  _ him.”

_ “I do.”  _ The man replied calmly,  _ “And I’m not going to call you a murderer. What you did to them, I would’ve done sooner if I could.”  _

Silence hangs between them. Marlais not knowing what to say to that and the masked man seemingly waiting for him to continue his angry rant. 

_ “I promise to answer all your questions, provided you give me a chance to.”  _ The man continued when it seemed Marlais wasn’t going to.  _ “Calmed enough too, as well.” _

Eyeing the masked man, he thought back to the first time the man had spoken to him. When he’d passed out from the torture Emet-Selch had deemed it fitting for him to endure, and followed that bright light which had called out to him. 

He thinks about his friends, back at lakeland and most likely panicking all around Crystarium or the first at his disappearance. 

He thinks about Feo Ul, who had talked to him back on the tower at the crystarium, who promised to give up their crown and have all of Il Mheg to fight in his stead should he so desired. Should he choose to be their ruler when he earned the rights to do so after setting the late Titania free.

He thinks back to the Exarch- _ G’raha Tia _ , crumpled on the ground. Barely twitching after taking a hit to the back from a gun. 

He thinks back to a lot of things. The various people he’d met in the first, the hume named Tesleen, Lyna breaking down before him, Vauthry’s madness…

But most of all, he thinks about Emet-Selch’s anger, and the look of bone-deep tiredness the man always seems to hold. 

“How much time do I have left?” He asked after feeling the haze of anger slip away, shoulders sagging from their tense posture. 

_ “Enough, if you start soon.”  _ Was the only vague answer the masked man seemed willing to give. 

Sighing through his nose, he walked till he was standing before the masked man before moving down to sit before him. 

“All my questions.” He said firmly, repeating to the masked man what was said to him earlier. “All of it.”

_ “All of it.”  _ He promised.

“No half-truths. No more riddles and guessing.” He added. He was getting sick of those.

There was no hesitation when the man replied, looking back at him with those blank blue eyes. 

_ “No.” _

  
  


* * *

Sitting in front of the masked man, he imitated the other by crossing his legs, before looking down at his lap as he laced his fingers together. What should he even ask first? Where should he even _start_?

Examining his overlapped fingers, his mind brought him back to that time Emet-Selch had used the device in the crystal tower. Using the magic within to conjure up projectiles as the ascian made them listen to his story, and more still after they’d defeated the second lightwarden in the qitana ravel.

“What happened to your world?” He asked finally. It wouldn’t hurt to see if Emet-Selch’s version of the story was accurate.

_ “If you’re asking about the original world, it is as Hades told you.”  _ The man responded simply, moving to explain when Marlais gave him a perplexed look.  _ “Your memories. I can see them. Though only when I’m asleep. Take it as I’m watching through your adventurers as my own dreams.” _

“And you agree? With what he said?” He’s definitely going to have the man elaborate on that part about his  _ dream.  _

The masked man tilted his head, and though he couldn’t see it behind the mask, he’s pretty sure the man just arched an eyebrow at him.

_ “We, the ascians, were the ‘original’ race. Back then we were called the ‘Amaroutines’, and while there were other races that lived alongside us, none were given the longevity and great pools of aether the Amaroutines were naturally gifted with. Thanks to the superior intellect of our ancestors, we were able to create a gleaming city called ‘Amaurot’, and later came to regard ourselves as the keepers of our star.”  _ He explained, quoting some of the words from Emet-Selch,  _ “That was until the calamity happened, and some of us ended up creating Zodiark to control it. While a few others created Hydaelyn to control Zodiark… The Gods then fought, with Hydaelyn’s final blow creating the thirteen reflections as Hades had so kindly illustrated.” _

He paused to glance at Marlais, and when the warrior did not move to ask another question, he continued.

_ “When the star started to die, our citizens started finding ways to prevent it. Scholars of every field gathered together to pour over notes, data, and results collected from our observations of the supposed calamity. However, we were never able to come to a conclusion in the end. There was no root cause that could be identified, no repeatable patterns that would provide us a trend that was causing the plants to die, the earth to crack or the elements to lose control. All we knew was that we were running out of time, as the doom started to spread far enough to reach our city, never stopping or pausing in its pursuit of destruction.”  _ The man spoke animatedly, as if he was reciting something he’d seen from a long time ago. 

_ “In a final struggle for hope, our brightest minds. The convocation of fourteen spent every waking moment of their time pouring over research and data that could provide a single solution to the problem. It was Lahabrea’s idea to create a being that would serve as an avatar of the star, as he was in charge of the research facility that focused on the ability of creation.” _

Plucking out a flower from beneath him, the cloaked man lifted it so it was eye level to Marlais.

_ “Creation magic,”  _ The man continued, twirling the blue flower held between his gloved fingers.  _ “An ability gifted to all descendants of the Amaroutine bloodline. It allows us to create objects using our own aether, be it solid, liquid, or even something like colour. In layman terms, it’s being able to turn our ‘imagination into reality’.” _

Letting go of the flower, it floats from where the cloaked man had released it. Held up by an invisible string as it continued to twirl slowly. 

_ “Of course this ability isn’t simply limited to creating something out of thin air. We are also able to change the form of an existing object, provided we understand the chemistry that creates it. For example, this flower-”  _ When the man gave the flower a soft tap, the petals shivered and started to shrink, drying up as it withered from bright blue to dull brown.  _ “-I can accelerate its life if I so desire, for I understand its biology and chemistry perfectly. I can also-”  _ The man snapped his fingers, and the wilting flower bloomed back to life, growing larger and thicker, more blue flowers sprouting from its thickened stem till it grew to the size of a mini bouquet.  _ “-change its inner structure. Let it grow bigger, thicker. Or clone its genetics by letting new flowers sprout from the original.” _

Picking up the flower from where it was twirling in the air, the masked man turned to look at him, rolling the tiny bouquet in his hand as he spoke.  _ “Though not as elaborate as what I could do… I’m sure you’re familiar with some of my explanations.”  _

The bouquet, he watched, shrinks and twists before his eyes until it resembles a blue stone. The man then moved it from what it sat in the middle of his palm to hold it between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it in a way that Marlais will be able to clearly see its shape. 

It was jagged, shaped in a way to faintly represent a heart despite the harsh sharpness of the stone’s edge. He felt himself instinctively reach for the pouch of stones he hung at the side of his belt, placed carefully in a spot that was under his robe and hidden from view. Even if the colour was off, the shape was hard to be mistaken. 

The masked man gives him a small smile, and makes a show of inspecting the stone as he tilted it this way and that. 

_ “And it was this ability that spawned Zodiark. With the star as our foundation, and our people as the material… We created him. And he halted the doom that was spreading on the star, ensuring the survival of us Amaroutines.”  _ The man continued, and he knew the other was pretending to not have seen the way his hand had curled into a fist at his side when they grasped at thin air. 

_ “Half of our people volunteered themselves… One drawback in creation magick was that we cannot do it using the ambient aether around us. It had to come from our own aether and nothing less. A life for a life if you will.”  _

He watched as the stone was let go, left to hover in the air as it twirled slowly. A parody of the real thing.

_ “Life then started to return under Zodiark’s will. As Hades has said.”  _ The man finished, turning his head away from the stone to look at Marlais.

“And Hydaelyn?” He looks back, and tries not to think about the stone hovering between them that so closely resembled the red one he’d kept in his pouch. 

_ “She was my creation.”  _ The man answered,  _ “Created in the same way as Zodiark, just as Hades have told you.”  _

_ You have been serving under the same thing you’ve been slaying.  _ Was what the man doesn’t say, judging by the knowing gaze sent his way.

_ “Hades had a family of his own. A wife and two children.”  _ The man continued, voice soft, “ _ One he had loved dearly. And still would’ve to this day, despite being tempered to Zodiark.” _

The man then lowered his head, hiding his eyes from view.  _ “I was there when he spent days upon days pouring over his research with the others to find a solution. Didn’t let himself rest other than a few winks in between, and wouldn’t have bothered to spend the time feeding himself if I hadn’t threatened to force it down his throat. That... was how much they meant to him.” _

_ “Imagine all that, only to have that very same man sacrifice his family to Zodiark.”  _ The man’s voice becomes deeper, hoarsher as he recalled the memory.  _ “He convinced them to join the crowd, convinced them with the same words the rest of the convocation of fourteen told us. That they would be serving a higher purpose, and would be brought back when the world flourished again.” _

The man then lifted his head up, locking his eyes with Marlais as he asked a question.  _ “Do you know what a Scholar’s greatest fear is?” _

Frowning, he doesn’t understand why the man would be asking a question when  _ he  _ was supposed to be the one doing it. But humoured it anyway by answering with “What?”

_ “The end in the legacy of his or her achievements.”  _ The man answered.  _ “Death was simply an end to their life, but it does not mean the end of what they had done, or the impression of the work they have left behind.”  _ Almost as an after-thought, he continued. _ “And perhaps it was that same fear that drove us to do what we did. Those that had sacrificed themselves trusted those that did not to remember them, their legacies and their achievements. So that history may yet continue to go down with us Amaroutines stain on it.” _

That... made sense, but there was still something that bothered him.

“Hydaelyn became the opposite of that, in the end. Was it what you had intended?”

_ “No. Truthfully speaking it was honestly a miscalculation. We failed to include the fact that Zodiark had become intimately attuned to the star, and whatever happened to him, happened to the star.” _

“Do you regret it?”

_ “No. If given the choice, I would do it again.”  _ The man answered without hesitating,  _ “The world was dying, and the tempered convocation of fourteen were simply feeding our people to Zodiark so the primal would have the necessary aether to create new life. If we’d went with the original plan of letting Zodiark consume the land to bring back our missing people, they would just be sacrificed again to even out the loss. Until one side becomes completely wrung dry.”  _

“A slow suicide.” He breathes softly, when the meaning behind the man’s words sinks in. 

_ “Correct. And I wanted to end things before it came to that.”  _ The man concluded, before turning his head to the side to look up the gigantic tree. 

“Is that why Ha-Emet-Selch hates you?” He asked when it seemed the masked man was waiting for another question. 

_ “Yes and no. He hates me not just because I denied his master his meal, but also because I had denied him the reunion of him and his family. Tempered though he may be, he was strong enough to retain some of his will, as opposed to the others.” _ The man replied simply, turning to look back at Marlais.  _ “And I did destroy our home, erasing all traces of it, and locked the being that was his reason to keep going.” _

Wringing his hands together, he looks back down at his lap. Even though Emet-Selch had made it pretty clear he hated him, there was just… one part that made him think otherwise. A part of him was almost afraid to ask the question, and so he quickly blurts it out before that part could grow any bigger.

“What’s… your relationship with Ha- _ Emet-Selch _ ?”

_ “Ah. I thought you would never ask.”  _ A small, tiny smile came back, and he’s pretty sure the man was looking at him with amusement.  _ “That little incident got you curious, didn’t it?” _

He nodded without thinking, and frowned. He hadn’t meant to really do that.

_ “A very close friend to some, a lot more to a select few.”  _ The man answered, the tiny smile becoming thoughtful before the man added on,  _ “I suppose in your terms we could be considered past lovers to a degree, though it is not the case in the eyes of Amarout.” _

He thinks his face must have twisted to something unpleasant, as the masked man smirked. He doesn’t dwell on the thought of how familiar that smirk looks to a certain someone.

_ “Curiosity is in the bone of every Amaroutine. It's not uncommon for there to be relations between two of the same sexes. We live a long life, and hence we do not have the need to procreate with the same eagerness that yours does.”  _ He explained,  _ “Many eventually moved on when their curiosity is sated, and it just wasn’t encouraged to continue the practice after a certain age.” _

He must have made another weird face again, because the masked man was doing a poor job of trying to hide his snicker.

_ “I do not expect you to understand. We  _ did _ live in very different times, Marlais.”  _ The man said, reassurance in his voice.

He then wondered how much weirder his life was going to get. Past lovers with an ascian? The scions really have picked the wrong man for the job. 

_ “You are you, and I am me. What I have done is not what you have done, even if we do share the same soul. That decision was mine alone.”  _ The man said simply, no doubt having caught the complicated expression on his face. 

He sighed, and briefly wondered if he should tell Y’shtola about adding ‘Identity Crisis’ to the list of problems he’s already dealing with. 

“You said you created Hydaelyn, how are you not… absorbed by her?” 

_ “Because I created her not to do so.”  _ The man answered, gaze thoughtful before he continued,  _ “The primals, as you’ve no doubt know intimately by now, are created on a person’s strong desires. But since we Amaroutines have more control than the lesser men and beasts, we were able to morph our creation through conscious thoughts. Provided we held onto them firmly when we created them.” _

_ “Hence I made Hydaelyn to absorb all of our aether whilst leaving our soul intact. We are still tempered to her like the convocation of fourteen are to Zodiark, but the people who made her are not wholly consumed. Instead, all of us offered a piece of our soul to create her image. With me the most out of everyone that participated.”  _

“How much did you give? To… look like the way you do?” He asked carefully, it was weird to have thought the man looking like the avatar of Hydaelyn, much more if said out loud. 

_ “Half.”  _ The man replied,  _ “I was the one to finalize the entire summoning, after the foundation had all been laid out. The convocation of fourteen had realised what we planned, and had sought to neutralize us. Some of our brethren were not able to complete their part as planned, and thus I was left to cover up the rest. As was my responsibility as the one who initiated the project. And also why I was allowed to have a connection with you, through the blessing of light”  _

“Did it hurt? To have your soul torn like that?” He asked as an after-thought while his hand reached up to rub at the middle of his chest. The pain of having his own tear at was enough to send his mind in disarray. 

_ “By hydaelyn? Yes. She was not gentle about it, and not as precise as Hades.”  _ He watched as the masked man shifted in his sitting position,  _ “When the summoning was completed, I was left barely hanging on to life. The tear was too much for my vessel to handle, and it started to collapse. Hades ended up giving the finishing blow in his rage.”  _

The man gives him a wry smile,  _ “I’m sure he’s regretted it since. Considering his attempts in trying to bring me back through you.”  _

“Through me?” Was that the reason Emet-Selch was tearing at his soul?

The masked man nodded,  _ “At least that is what I think he is attempting to do. But it wouldn’t work, with half my soul bound to Hydaelyn. All he would accomplish is creating a stronger connection between you and myself, but he won’t ever be able to bring me back.” _

**_“...when I stitched you back together, after a few add-ons.”_ **

****"How would that be possible?" Emet-Selch mentioned stitching him back together, but with _what?_

_"My other souls that were scattered across the reflection. He has been adding pieces of it to your own by tearing open a space, and stitching a new part to it. Think of it as adding new cloth to a piece of fabric. Of course, it doesn't work as smoothly, even if Hades is an expert on the soul, it is still a very fragile material to work with. One cannot simply force a soul to merge unless the host is willing."_

The wry smile softens, turning sad as he continued,  _ “It is a harsh burden, to live as long as he did with the weight of what he has done and have to do still on him everyday. Alone. I have no doubt its driven a part of his sanity to crack.”  _

“...Do you agree with what he’s doing?” 

_ “I would. If I had survived the sundering.”  _ The man’s gaze was blank when he looked pointedly at Marlais.  _ “If I hadn’t been bound to Hydaelyn as I am and saw through your journeys, and the ones before you.” _

The masked man then smiled,  _ “You made me see the beauty in your own world, and though some of it pales in comparison to my own, it is not without its charm.”  _

_ “And what of you, warrior? You stood only to gain even should you not survive the calamity back in your world. Yet here you are, still choosing to fight.”  _ The man asked, the very first question since their conversation. 

Why did he fight? Why  _ does  _ he fight?

Was it for his friends? For G’raha Tia? For Ardbert whom he’d come to empathize with?

For the first? For the sake of his own justice and morals?

For survival?

_ You know why.  _ We _ know why.  _

“To live.” He answered after a while, “To continue on to the next adventure. With my friends. To go back home and see my family again.” 

The smile became wider, and the masked man seemed pleased.  _ “Then I will help you.”  _

“There is a second option?” He tried not to sound hopeful, but he was sure he did. It would mean the first wouldn’t risk being destroyed, and G’raha Tia wouldn’t need to accomplish his goal in self-sacrifice to rid the light for good. 

_ “That would depend on your decision, Marlais. But it is time you went back, I have kept you here long enough.”  _

The masked man made to stand, only to stagger slightly in the task. Alarmed, he reached out to try and steady the man, though was politely pushed back. 

_ “I am fine,”  _ The masked man reassured as he patted Marlais gently on the arm,  _ “the task took more energy than I thought it would.”  _

“Will I get to talk to you again?” He asked, gaze going back to the blue stone still hovering in the air. 

_ “I am not going anywhere, Marlais. Not until this is done.”  _ Having noticed his attention towards the stone, the man reached out to grasp it before reaching out to grab his hand, pressing the stone into Marlais’ palm when he pried it open. _"Keep this with you."_  


“Can I ask one more question?” Squeezing the stone in his palm, he looked into blank blue eyes, who were regarding him with an emotion he couldn’t name. 

_ “Of course. If it's a small one.”  _ The man answered, before chuckling  _ “You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” _

Marlais ignored the remark. “What’s your name? I’m not about to refer to you as the ‘masked man’ forever.” 

The masked man gave him a look, as if to say ‘is that really how you’re referring to me the whole time?’.

_ “Oxylus.”  _ The man said after a while,  _ “My name is Oxylus.” _

The man- _ Oxylus _ then offered a hand out to Marlais, who took it when the flowers beneath them started to shiver. Petals quivered under an invisible wind as they danced to a songless tune, the familiar cracking of roots being dug out following soon after. 

_ “They used to be green, before my merge with Hydaelyn.”  _

Oxylus looked at him, eyes blank and unblinking as the flowers groaned beneath them. 

“What is?” He doesn’t look away, even as he felt the ground underneath them start to give way. 

_ “My eyes.”  _ The grip on his hand tightened, and the ground finally gave away.  _ “Hold tight, Marlais.”  _

Before he could question the man any further the flowers beneath them dispersed, and just like the first time he falls back slowly in a dream-like state where his limbs felt paralyzed, watching in stunned silence as the blue petals dissolve away into darkness. The stars above him twinkled brightly, before it was covered by the mass of branches that seemed to be moving with a life of their own.

The hand that had been gripping his own squeezed, and Oxylus pulled him closer to get a better grip on him by circling his arm around his waist. The man offered a squeeze of assurance, head turning to the side to whisper into his ear.

_ “Trust me, Marlais.” _

Gravity rights itself after the words, and like a silent command, they  _ fell _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of you who has yet to do the DRK quest, I do highly recommend you to do it. The writing is phenomenal and does link to the story in SHB in a way. Though at this point its merely fan theories, the possibility of Fray being a part of an Amaroutine skill in creation magic is still honestly very interesting in my honest opinion.

**Author's Note:**

> The instrument Emet-Selch was standing beside to is a crystal grand piano.


End file.
